Recurring Decimals
by randomfandomboredom
Summary: 20th December. Alfred, Arthur's friend, gets hit by a truck and dies. Arthur was crying when he heard his alarm clock beeping. He wakes up, it's 20th December. Alfred dies again. Everything keeps repeating, just like recurring decimals. The same number, never whole, over and over again.
1. Chapter 1, Introduction

_Edited for @aph.russia 's fairy-tale au contest. It is a time loop au that was inspired by "Heat-haze Days". I changed a few aspects of it so I hope that this is counted. Warning: Rated M (to be safe) for language and character death, and the ship is UsUk. Sorry for any inaccuracies._

Humans are the most intelligent species in the world. We made our own different unique languages, we created clothes out of scratch and we invented marvellous things. Things that can help us understand the world better. Science, Math and more. We know everything. We can explain everything. However, what if we encountered something we couldn't decipher? A code we couldn't crack? Would we attempt to solve it or would we leave it unknown, a fabricated tale only passed from mouth to mouth, from our own deceived experiences that no one sane would truly believe?

 **[20th December 2018, 6.31am]**

"Beep beep beep beep! Beep beep beep beep! Beep beep beep-"

"Bleugh." A groan escaped Arthur as he fumbled around blindly around his nightstand for his phone, wincing at the unnatural bright light as he stopped the alarm. Ah shit, his head's pounding like mad. He stood up, and almost immediately, his legs gave way and he collapsed. He felt dizzy and felt like puking. Not a good idea to be up then, considering the fact that he was drunk to the point of being trousered about… 7 hours ago? Shouldn't have had the drinking competition with that bloody French co-worker. Pshh, what's more important is that he needed to actually be chirper as a morning bird to deal with _him_.

So Arthur got up and dragged his feet against the cold smooth floor (the floor is so cold did it switch from marble to ice or something) to the dining area and groggily landed on his couch. It's hard to be motivated to actually do things when it's a Sunday and you're working for the other 6 days but... it is for the sake for a dear friend indeed. He switched his position by flipping over to his right and the rock hard surface greeted him. Cranky and sour, Arthur kicked the leg of the sofa but the only thing he got out of it was a very painful toe. Never mind, he was definitely wide-awake now.

Arthur still felt nausea attempting to rise up at the back of his throat and he did not want to make a mess. So he hastily searched through the cupboards, cheering a bit inwardly when he found the very last Earl Grey tea bag left. As he absentmindedly continue his daily morning routine, Arthur smiled a bit. Alfred F. Jones. Arthur was going to meet him. That fellow could be considered a nuisance since he most likely still maintained his childish habits but his windswept blond hair and gleaming blue eyes and cheeky smile would make up for it-

"Pheeeeet!" The kettle went off and Arthur concentrated on the task of pouring the water into the cup, pushing his thoughts to the back of his mind. He focused more on seeping the tea bag into his freshly-poured cup of hot water, not minding the fact that there was no milk. He ran out of it yesterday and took note to buy it after the meet-up with Alfred.

At 7am on the dot, Arthur Kirkland left wearing 2 jackets and carrying a grocery list in his backpack, not knowing what was going to happen that day. No one knows what happens in the future. In fairy tales Arthur used to adore reading and watching, endings were predictable. There were always happy endings. Beauty and the Beast. Cinderella 1, 2 and 3. The Little Mermaid. Going through so much to obtain a happily ever after. Too bad that it's all magic and stuff with heavily idealisation in it. It can't happen in the real world. Not now, not ever.

 **[20th December 2018, 7.17am]**

Arthur walked for a while in the cold, enjoying the silence in the early morning air. He was pleasantly surprised to see it snowing. It was uncommon for England to snow. Arthur stood at a spot for a while, watching the snow fall. Soon the floors were sparsely covered in white and Arthur continued walking. The destination was a park, which he strolled at for a while aimlessly; after all he had a lot of time to kill. They agreed to meet at 7.45am. The trees barely had any leaves on them, the sound of his shoes scrapping the rocky pavement echoed throughout the empty park and the sunrise painted the sky in a brilliant mix of purple, pink and orange. "Hm, thought that only happened in Bob Ross's paintings." Arthur commented aloud. For fun, he ruffled his hair a bit and sure enough, small flakes of snow fluttered down all around him. It had been 4 years since Arthur last visited the park. It looked so different.

Even though Arthur was enjoying the scenery, he was not exactly looking forward to the long time he had to wait for Alfred. He was silently mourning for not bringing a book to entertain himself when his walking led him to a familiar part of the park. Arthur slowed his pace and looked around. A playground. At least that thing didn't change. The memories of that place were quite interesting.

 **[7th July 2006, 8.48am]**

"Hi!"

Arthur jumped a little at the sudden noise and glanced in annoyance at the disturbance. A cheerful young-looking boy wearing a blue jumper was grinning at Arthur, unknowingly tramping all over the sandbox. Great, his sand-based empire was ruined. He was even planning to build a pirate ship. Arthur shot the foreign boy a glare but that person continued smiling, unperturbed by the subtle hostility. He sighed, no use anyway. "Hi?"

The dense boy beamed up at him. "My name is Alfred F. Jones! I'm from the USA and just moved here," the boy named Alfred extended his right arm, "and what's your name?"

Arthur stared at him. Strange kid, approaching strangers in the morning without being worried about being in danger. He hesitantly grabbed Alfred's handand shook it. "Arthur Kirkland from this very state." Alfred grinned even more and commented, "So that's why your accent is weird." Arthur quickly let go of Alfred's hand. He must have looked offended too because Alfred quickly corrected himself. "No, I mean it in a good way! It's unique, I've heard the taxi driver from the airport having the same interesting way of saying words!" Arthur's shoulders relaxed a little at the genuine response, briefly forgetting that he was supposed to be displeased at him. Maybe that boy isn't so bad after all.

They talked about many things. Ranging from Doctor Who to earthworms to magic to Disney movies to Arthur's "caterpillar-like" thick eyebrows (which caused his eyebrow to twitch a bit in irritation and caused Alfred to laugh louder) and to so many other randomised topics.

Alfred had a high energy level. Not hyperactive, but always boisterous and cheerfully smiling. His words were always filled with unsettlingly high intensity. While this should have discouraged Arthur from befriending him, the British was also intrigued. The 9-year-old could also handle Arthur's peculiar attitude, eventually causing the older boy to warm up a lot to him. They started to hang out more and slowly became not just ordinary friends, but the first real friend in his 11 years Arthur actually felt happy to have.

They met up with each other whenever possible and often played together in the playground, snickering as they tried fruitless attempts of emptying the playground's sandpit and dumping it to the already sandy floor, playing miscellaneous games with the most unusual rules, or just talking to each other.

Arthur assumed that their personalities would clash; Alfred was almost the exact opposite of him. Arthur preferred to stay indoors to read books or play in peace, while Alfred preferred to go out of his way to make friends outdoors. Arthur would rather be a bystander to an accident, compared to Alfred who tries his best to intervene. Arthur was more of an insignificant soldier guarding an already secured palace, and Alfred was more of a dashing knight making his way to the throne with the victory of his heroic quests. With this, they really don't match so Arthur assumed their companionship wouldn't last.

But no. They grew closer. Instead, Alfred was the one encouraging Arthur to let loose, to throw caution to the wind at times and to just have fun. Arthur didn't need to be mature, didn't need to prove that he was old enough to join into his conversations such as his older brothers' talks, didn't need to be neutral and have a carefully even tone. Not when he's around Alfred. Because Alfred didn't judge. Alfred didn't care. Alfred just wanted a buddy to play with and to talk to. He wasn't complicated. He had a simple mind-set with untainted intentions. Alfred later progressed to being Arthur's best friend.

Sometimes, Arthur's and Alfred's mom would both sit on a bench, watching them draw gibberish on the sand and whatnot. Even when the not-so-scorching-because-this-is-England sun of Summer shone down at the two boys, they played games like Hide and Catch, laughing barely-stifled screams once they were discovered and chasing each other around. When flowers of Spring started growing with the aid of nearly daily rain, they explored the entire park, with their shoe soles getting dirty from the mud. They did it so much that they later decided to take off their shoes when doing so to avoid a scolding from their parents. When Autumn came, Arthur swept up the leaves in a huge bundle and watched with half-concealed amusement as Alfred jumped inside the pile. Arthur tried being exasperated but Alfred helped to clean up the mess.

Winter was their favourite season. The cold cooled off their body heat and people don't bother coming to the park due to the temperature. No one really disturbed them. And on rare occasions, snow would appear. That was the best part. They caught snowflakes with their tongues, flung snow at each other and when they're all out of breath, they would sit on the swings, panting but beaming against the chilly air. Those were also the times where Arthur would open up the most and Alfred lent a listening ear (and vice-versa). It felt… nice.

A few more years passed. The two grew busier with school, social activities and more. Arthur didn't want to admit it, but they were drifting apart. They both still tried their best to meet up at least once every three weeks to catch up on what's happening in each other's life. Alfred grew taller and stronger and never failed to remind the older boy at every single meeting, causing Arthur to scowl with no malice. How simple it was to just forget about their current life problems when they see each other, the issues melting like the snow under the sun. It felt like Arthur and Alfred were both rulers, they could do whatever they want in their world. Because at the end of the day, no one could burst their bubble, no one could destroy or muddle with their alliances.

 **[20th December 2011, 11.42pm]**

Arthur was 16-years-old, when something strange happened. It was quite late and they were at the same spot as always. Alfred's parents went overseas and Arthur's parents left to visit their grandparents so the overly worried mothers sent one of Arthur's older brothers to supervise them. Too bad that that very person ditched them after having too many bottles of beer. Alfred tried begging Arthur's unnaturally red-haired sibling to let him have a sip but the guy just laughed and brushed him off, sitting casually on the nearby bench. Soon, he was drunk and pie-eyed, with one of the glass bottles slipping from his hands, shattering from the impact on the ground.

Arthur looked at his brother with slight concern. "Allistor, I don't think it's wise to keep drinking, remember that time when we visited you in Scotland and you broke into Sebastian's room and dyed your-" "Screw that fucking shit, I getta and I'm gonna do whatever I want aye. So I don't care what smartasses like ye think so PISS OFF OR SUCK MY WULLY!" Allistor ended the sentence with a roar and kicked another empty glass bottle hard, the bottle nearly hitting Alfred in the process. Alfred mouthed the word "vulgar" at an unsurprised Arthur.

Allistor suddenly looked like he was about to cry, his expression changing from bright flashing anger to immense sadness. "Ye kids stay 'ere, I needa get me girlfrien' back, I'm going off my nuts at it, she must love me, she still loves me..." Allistor walked pathetically, grabbing a streetlight for support to get off the bench. And so the two teenagers watched Allistor stumble off towards near a construction area for a traffic light that was not so far off. Alfred raised both of his eyebrows, giving Arthur a look and Arthur only shrugged. "His girlfriend broke up with him. I'm already used to him being angered easily when drunk, don't worry though. He'll be safe." Alfred commented, "He has the same excellent use of word choices as you." "Oh piss off you dick." "See what I mean?" "If I shove that glass bottle up your arse I wonder if you'll keep doing that."

The two friends started chatting again. They shifted closer in the sandbox so that their legs were brushing with each other, not that they even noticed. Arthur watched as Alfred drew random patterns in the sand. "If one wish of yours could get granted, what'll you wish for?" Arthur asked out of boredom, quietly scrutinising the superman logo doodle.

Alfred sat still for a moment, looking thoughtful before pointing his finger at the drawing and said, "Well, since I'm a hero-" Alfred noticed Arthur rolling his eyes. "I am still! Uhh, a lifetime supply of food like popcorn, distributing it to people allllll over the world and never gaining weight. Wait, but that's literally three wishes and that's still kinda douchey and selfish. Maybe flying? That's cool. I know! I wish," Alfred drew something that looked like a rectangle with squiggly lines," that I have something like the TARDIS from Doctor Who. But it justs travel through time. Essentially for restarting the day to save my future probably big-boobed beloved lover." Alfred did an exaggerated motion of jiggling fake large breasts in front of his chest and licking his lips, causing Arthur to stifle a laugh at the poorly executed wince-inducing attempt. Alfred seemed to be the only person that manages to make Arthur's smile reach his eyes.

Arthur stopped sniggering and said, "Your drawing is atrocious by the way." Alfred's eyes narrowed and now it was his turn to ask Arthur to shut up, which made Arthur laugh again. Alfred's blue eyes were looking at Arthur, and Arthur paused, looking at them, and in his head he thought that blue was the best colour to ever exist. Alfred steadily met his gaze (Arthur's breath hitched) and replied, "Hm, at least it's better than your cooking skills." Arthur looked away, effectively breaking the moment. Thus, they continued bickering, their bare feet buried in the cool sand of the sandbox and their pants having sand grains all over it, and both oblivious to everything in general. Feelings, heightened atmosphere, surroundings.

They talked about their dream jobs (Alfred wanted to be a vet, police officer or something along the lines, go figure), played games like 'Shoot, shag, marry' ("Yes, I will shag Tom Felton. Because there's absolutely no way I will shag Miley Cyrus- god damn it stop giggling like that!") and other trivial things like that.

They were halfway through playing 'Never have I ever' when the streetlights suddenly stopped working. In less than a moment, the entire park was barren of light. The conversation died down in an instant. Darkness had taken over the park (it seemed like there was a blackout because not even the apartments nearby had their lights on), clouds covered up the moon and Arthur could feel Alfred tensing up. Oh no. Arthur vaguely remembered Alfred's deathly fear of the dark. They sat in silence as the cold wind blew past their face and only then did the 16-year-old realise that the park they often frequented could be scary. In a hushed tone (Arthur was not sure why it just felt wrong to continue yapping away), the British asked, "Alfred, what's the time now?" Alfred took a second to react, clicking his watch button to check. "It's 12am. Exactly." "Oh. That's a nice coincidence." "Uh-huh."

They sat, not knowing what to do for a moment. "Arthur?" Alfred's voice was trembling.

"Yes?"

"This may sound stupid but I-I don't really like the dark."

"...I know."

"Where's your brother again?"

"He left already and I'm sure he won't pick us up. We can leave now you know. We're not bounded to this place or anything." Arthur tried for a light-hearted chuckle but he personally thought he sounded like he was an old man rasping for time to live. "Yeah so there's no one at my home at all... Arthur can I come stay over at your house tonight please?" In the dim light, Arthur couldn't see much. Just Alfred's outline and shape. Everything else looked like a mixture of blue and black washed in a dark purple shade. Alfred looked so small, so vulnerable. Arthur wanted to cradle him, as if he is now the knight saving Alfred the princess. "Sure Alfred, come on up you go. Let's get out of here."

And that's when the scariest part hit. Alfred got out but Arthur didn't.

Alfred stood up and hopped out, started putting back on his sock and looked back at Arthur, who was halfway standing up, one leg outstretched to get out of the sandbox. Arthur proceeded to move but felt something warm wrapped around his leg. He looked down. Only to see an arm, pale enough to be seen in the darkness, covered in sand in the middle of the box, clutching Arthur's calf. The grip tightened and the hand started tugging. It was that moment where Arthur's panicked scream echoed throughout the neighbourhood.

The arm started pulling Arthur down. Arthur was sinking into the sandbox. Alfred rushed forward and quickly grabbed onto Arthur's arms and pulled him frantically as Arthur continued sinking. Alfred's great strength seemed to fail him as a different arm grabbed onto Arthur's other free leg. Arthur was trying to kick and step onto the foreign things but his movements were limited and they held his legs so painfully tight. Arthur's vision became blurry and he felt hot tears trickling down his face in fear, the temperature contrasting against his face. This felt surreal, like a weird dream. He felt one of the fingernails sinking into his skin for a better grip and he tried to wriggle free with renewed energy but to no avail. His heartbeat was a frenzy and his mind couldn't function properly. No one was nearby, just Arthur and Alfred of them, in a deserted playground with the unexplainable happening.

Arthur could hear the sand grains trickling in, like sand in an hourglass. Even as Arthur tried to look into Alfred's morning-sky-like eyes, the whole thing felt unreal. Arthur kept thinking that everything's fake, he's just hallucinating, it's only his imagination hahaha but his dreams were never as vivid as this and his mind kept screaming, "COLD COLD COLD" at the exposed skin. Crazy was an understatement, it seemed so fiction-like, so impossible.

The sandpit was small, and yet the sand level was now on the green-eyed male's thigh. The arms pulled with unrelenting strength and Arthur once thought he was in quicksand, going to die just like in the movies Alfred forces him to watch. His eyes watered even more when he thought about Alfred crying from losing Arthur. "ARTHUR GRAB MY LEFT ARM NOW." The scenario of Alfred mourning at his death was cut off and he immediately followed the orders. Even through the entire bizarre ordeal, Alfred was smart enough to use an arm to grab the nearby broken glass bottle Allistor dropped and dug it into the moving sand. Using all the force possible, he sank the sharp tip into one of the arms. The hand loosened its grip a bit and Arthur immediately stepped up a bit, his leg outside the sandbox as he tried to pull free from the other hand but Arthur was moving too much, panicking too much.

Arthur fell back first onto the sand. Through the churns of sand, Arthur saw red blood dripping from the long cut inflicted by Alfred. The arm reached out for enough to yank Arthur's hair and for an instant, his head was under the masses of sand. He didn't dare breath and he squeezed his eyes shut. He felt trapped. And that's when Arthur heard a sickening "crunch" and felt Alfred grabbing his shirt and pulling him up. The hands sank back into the sand. And just like that, the entire ordeal was over. In less than 3 minutes.

All was still.

The lights went back on. Arthur was coughing and coughing, using his jumper sleeve to wipe off the sand on his face. When that was done, he tried walking to the bench to inspect his wounds but his leg was so numb that he lost balance and accidentally toppled onto Alfred, landing on top of him as they fell. Alfred winced at the impact, saying a quiet, "Oof." as they landed on the floor right in front of the playground. They laid there, panting heavily in the cold winter air, sandbox in ruins (when did that happen?) with sand spilling everywhere. Arthur didn't realise he was crying until he heard himself breathing and gasping, his lungs expanding and contracting so fast that he thought he would get into a panic attack and his breathing went even faster at the thought of that but then he felt a hand threading into his hair.

Alfred was stroking his hair, whispering soothing words and steadily calming Arthur down. They stayed like that for a very long time. Arthur listened to Alfred's heartbeat slowing and basked in the warmth of Alfred's hug. He really needed it. "Did that just really happen? Tell me I'm not going insane. If not, I need to go to the mental ward and my brother will be so pissed." Why is it that this time, the 14-year-old was the more mature one, the one trying to lighten up the mood? Wasn't Arthur supposed to be the one protecting the damsel in distress? "That happened. My leg still hurts. I couldn't retaliate in time. Thanks Alfred for helping. I'm pathetic." Arthur's voice trailed off to a defeated murmur, but Alfred continued stroking Arthur's pale blonde hair. "You're not Arthur, I am. I should have reacted faster. I felt like I was losing time, like I was losing you. Your long sleeve tore and started to slip at one point. I was so scared. I was so so damn scared." They eventually brushed up and headed back to Arthur's home.

Things were… different after that. Both talked about the incident the next day, checking with each other again and again and again that it wasn't a dream. Alfred had the theory that the arms belonged to zombies but it was dismissed. It was strange. Arthur and Alfred were supposed to feel excited. A real unexplained paranormal experience? The reporters and conspiracy theory people would have a field day! But they just felt tired, surprised, not a single shred of pride in them. Besides, who would believe them anyway? Wow, a portal-like thing happening in the middle of the sandbox mhm sure sure whoa huge coincidence no one else was there please do go on about this wild totally believable tale! There were no security cameras, and none had whipped out their cell phones to take pictures of the sight, and people could always accuse of Photoshop. The events seemed unbelievable even to Arthur, and he still believed in unicorns at the age of 16.

The sandbox disappeared.

Arthur and Alfred still talked and played with each other, but they had their own lives too. More years passed. A cat attacked Alfred and someone Ukrainian saved him, and that someone became his girlfriend, Arthur had sex with some African girl he barely knew. Alfred became the basketball captain, Arthur retired from his head student prefect position. They exchanged numbers, they played multiplayer games and told each other stories of their lives. Alfred broke up with his girlfriend, Arthur got drunk for the first time. Alfred made out with some "feisty Italian" guy or something in a bar, Arthur had a one night stand with a Spanish male in a motel. Alfred went to a university in Canada when he was 17 to join his older brother in pursuing his dreams, leaving Arthur alone to work in a dingy office.

It was the last day of November in the year 2018, and Arthur was watching the news about a guy reporting statistics of worrying climate change when he received a notification. His heart skipped a beat when it was a message from a contact that he hasn't heard from for months.

 **Alfred "Flaming" Jones 《19.38》:** Heyaaaaaaaaa

 **Arthur K. 《19.40》:** Nice to hear from you again

 **Arthur K. 《19.40》:** I still don't think the 'a's are needed

 **Alfred "Flaming" Jones 《19.41》:** Yay glad u feel that way, anyway, me and mattie are coming back to london next week for quite a while, wanna meet up?

 **Arthur K. 《19.4** **2》:** *'Mattie and I'. Just to confirm, Mattie is Matthew right?

 **Alfred "Flaming" Jones 《19.42》:** Sheesh stop getting on my case about it lol but yeah mattie's matthew. im surprised u remember him.

 **Arthur K. 《19.43》:** Okay then, which days are you available?

 **Alfred "Flaming" Jones 《19:44》:** Hmm im free on the weekends

 **Arthur K. 《19.45》:** I'm working on Saturday and later taking care of my godson though. How about Sunday 7.45am?

 **Alfred "Flaming" Jones 《19.46》:** / that early?

 **Arthur K. 《19.46》:** If it's an inconvenience towards you, I could always arrange a later timing,

 **Alfred "Flaming" Jones 《19.46》:** Nah it's not a problem, im just a bit lazy. Guess its more time 2 spend with u i guess. So it's 10th dec? wanna have lunch and dinner together?

 **Arthur K. 《19.47》:** Yep why not, see you soon

 **Alfred "Flaming" Jones 《19.48》:** See ya, I miss you! :D

 **Alfred "Flaming" Jones: 《Last seen at 30th November 2017,** **19.48》**

Arthur placed down his Samsung phone, getting up from his couch to grab a book to read. Even when he flipped to a bookmarked page, he found that he had read the same paragraph three times without absorbing any of it. Arthur shook his head, ridding himself thoughts that Alfred had actually thought and missed him, and settled himself down. He ignored his 23-year-old heart that was fluttering like a high school girl having a crush.


	2. Case number 1 Car accident

Arthur hated the cold.

 **[20th December 2018, 7:52am]**

"Hi!"

Arthur turned around and greeted Alfred. "What a surprise. You're," Arthur looked down to check his phone, "7 minutes late." The 21-year-old had his hands behind his back as gave a sheepish smile, his new glasses making his blue eyes more intense. "Sorry 'bout that, I was rescuing this?" And he brought his arms in front. There lay an orange and white cat wrapped up in Alfred's brown jacket. And here Arthur thought that Alfred still didn't like cats.

"I found this lovely lady in the drain that's not exactly shallow for her so I used my bomber jacket which is quite great since y'know the material and all and I used it to wrap her around so she'll be warm and sure my jacket will be covered in cat fur but hey it's for a good cause and I mean cats hate water right so double bonus and I'm not sure what's her name but I was thinking of Lemon or Frenchies or…" As Alfred continued rambling on without a pause, Arthur stepped back and took a good look at Alfred. Alfred has definitely lost some of the chubbiness he had when he was in his preteen years. The white t-shirt Alfred wore looked a bit too thin to protect from the weather and those jeans looked a bit too tight. Not that anyone's complaining.

"Hey look it's the old playground, that thing's still there? Geez, it's as old as you!" Alfred didn't notice Arthur's appreciative gaze at all as he dumped the (scowling? She looks kind of grumpy) cat onto Arthur. Huh, guess he's still the same, oblivious as ever. Arthur ignored the insult Alfred made, a great skill he had acquired over the past years, and trailed behind Alfred towards the playground. The playground was deserted because no one in the right mind would go there so early in the morning, and Arthur shivered a little. Everything seemed so déjà vu.

Alfred's now sitting on the swings, kicking his legs up and down, up and down. The swing creaked and for a moment, Arthur thought that it would collapse but it didn't. His silver-rimmed glasses were not settled properly so it kept bouncing on Alfred's nose. Alfred waved an arm to Arthur before the American shouted, "Hey hey hey hey hey hey hey sit next to me!" His glasses dropped and Arthur picked it up before handing it to Alfred. He then brushed off the snow on the seat before sitting on it (the joining of the creaking of the metal chain causing the cat to hiss) and commented, "It appears that your bad habit of excessively using the same words still continue up until now."

"Oh come on it has never really bothers you!"

"It's been a while since I've seen you Alfred, things could have change."

"Nah, especially when it comes towards being your pal!"

"…What's your major again?"

"Aww is ittie-bittie Arthur trying to change the topic-"

"I'm not little. And here's a not-so-gentle reminder that I'm 2 years older than you."

"You're still shorter though-"

"Okay, this is the perfect time for you to shut the hell up."

Alfred started laughing at Arthur's reaction. Arthur watched the sight of a 21-year-old being so childish, it really seemed like time between them haven't pass at all. The comparison of Alfred and him in the fantasy world and here continued playing at the back of his mind. Alfred was still smiling brightly as he took out 2 chocolate bars from his jacket pocket. "Here, I brought you a snack." Arthur frowned a bit before saying, "Alfred, I do hope you remember I'm not entirely fond of eating sweet items." "I do remember, that's why I got you dark chocolate while I get milk chocolate. Ta-da!" Alfred showed him the dark chocolate bar packet before handing it over to him. Arthur placed the purring cat on his lap as he accepted it. The sound of unwrapping was quite comforting in the silent playground. If anybody passed by, it would be a bit of a strange sight to see two grown men sitting on a kid's swing eating snacks like children.

Arthur ate finish the chocolate and wiped his mouth on his sleeve, not really caring if there's a stain. Alfred looked at Arthur and there was something he couldn't identify in Alfred's expression. Alfred smiled. "Can you help me to throw my wrapper in the trashcan?" Arthur scoffed and was about to make a snarky reply that was along the lines of Alfred getting his lazy butt off the swing and to do it himself when Alfred started talking again. "Pretty please," Alfred begged, clasping his hands together and giving him the puppy-eyed look. "Pleeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaase Arthurrrrrr." Alfred drew out every the syllabus again, his bottom lip even started wobbling like the dramatic person he was and Arthur, being Arthur, finally gave in.

Alfred happily passed his wrapper to a resigned British, even volunteering to hold the yawning cat in his arms. Just as he expected, Alfred was still a child at heart. Arthur straightened up and, without a second thought, fondly messed up Alfred's soft sunny yellow hair. Alfred's ears reddened and Arthur smiled.

And… Arthur have no idea where the rubbish bin was. The layout of the park has really changed over the past 4 years. He had wandered around for approximately 3 minutes and decided that it's the wisest choice to just give up. He ran his fingers through his hair in annoyance and shoved the wrappers in his jean pocket. At least he still remembered the way back to the playground. He turned around to retrace his steps when he a person near a notice board suddenly grabbed his arm. "What the fuck!" The curse slipped out as his arm was jerked back. He was about to question the stranger's intentions when he took in the appearance of the person.

 **[20th December 2018, 7:59am]**

"Language Arthur."

"Oh, it's just you. Um, weren't you dying in a hospital?" Arthur replied, looking at the hooded figure standing in front of him. The albino blinked. "I'm feeling quite alive." Arthur frowned, he was quite sure something happened to the person standing in front of him, but he can't recall. Oh well. "Gilbert, aren't you supposed to be in Germany?" Gilbert leaned on a nearby streetlight, his alarmed red eyes contradicting his position. "Who cares. Anyhoo, I'm going to skip the beating around the bush and get straight to the point. What's more important is that something's happening today. Something big. I myself am not sure what's exactly happening but you need to stay alert."

Arthur settled down on a bench and asked, "What do you have, psychic powers or something?" Gilbert's serious expression changed as he broke out into a smug grin. "Nope, but my boyfriend has. He's almost as awesome as me. I'm not sure if the incident is going to be harmful or harmless, but I don't want anything happening to you. You're a great drinking partner, you say the most hilarious shit when you're hammered as fuck."

Gilbert's hood fell, the chilly wind tossing his white hair around. "And why do you think that I should believe you? You play pranks and lie out of habit." The German knelt in front of Arthur and placed two fingers on each side of his head, frowning in mock concentration. "Yeah let's see, a few years ago, two misbehaving devils from Hell wanted to make Alfred sad. The same old cliché story of taking away someone to destroy happiness. So, they decided to interfere with human live and boom. Portal opening at that place," Gilbert pointed at the rough direction of the playground, "and trying to drag you down and probably kill you." Arthur sat there in silent incredulity. How the heck?

"I know it's quite far-fetched but hey it is true. Toldcha I wasn't lying. My boyfriend worked there before so he knows. Anyways, I gotta go. I have a bitc- witch to catch." With that, Gilbert stuck his pale hands in his jeans and proceeded to walk away. Arthur furrowed his brows in confusion, and called out, "Pissface!" Gilbert turned back, looking at Arthur with an arched eyebrow. "First of all, he's not my boyfriend. Second of all... nice spectacles. They suit you."

Gilbert grinned again. "I can say one thing. You've gotten nicer. But Alfred, mm, he's still the same. What's happening today had happened to Alfred before too by the way. It's repeating. Interpret it with your posh British ho-dee-dum intelligence, whatef's." And the German walked away. Arthur stood up after that brief perplexing conversation and walked the opposite way, heading back to the swings. He didn't want to think about anything Gilbert said.

Arthur saw Alfred tiptoeing and peering at him through the tree branches before scuttering back to the swings and acting like he was there all along. Hm. Arthur sat back down at the swing. "I saw that Alfred." "What? Oh, that. Oops, I was wondering what was taking so long. Hey Arthur, what job do you work as again?" And they fell back into the easy rhythm of being with each other again. Like the happy ever after of the prince and the rescued princess.

Except… Alfred was more jittery. His laughter was a pitch higher than normal. He kept darting his eyes around, settling at Arthur's face for a minute before repeating the cycle again. He seemed to be really embarrassed at being caught.

Arthur listened to Alfred telling him about his university experience. Alfred was in the midst of using wild hand gestures to visualise his science experiment when his movements caused the stray cat on his lap to meow in possible annoyance. She was probably really irritated because she leaped off Alfred's crumpled jacket and ran straight in the direction of the exit of the park.

"Stay right here Arthur I'll be right back I got her." Arthur looked up at Alfred and realised that he looked a bit tired. Maybe he skipped breakfast again. He wasn't standing straight, his arms drooped a bit and his eyes weren't as bright as before. "Are you sure? You look a bit worn out. I can do it." Arthur rose, only for Alfred to quickly push him down, handing him his jacket in the process.

"Nah man I'm fine I'll do it, shit, she's already getting away bye!" He gave Arthur a slight smile before chasing after her. Their conversation gave the cat quite a headstart, it was hard to see her scampering figure. As Arthur watched the two dashed off into the distance, he discreetly huddled the bomber jacket closer to his chest. It felt warm.

A minute passed and Alfred still hasn't caught the cat, even as she charged past the old gates of the park. Right to the traffic light half a kilometre away. Neither of them stopped and that's when Arthur knew something was off. Alfred couldn't be that reckless right? Besides, cats would know to avoid going to such dangerous places too. Sure he has a hero complex but he wouldn't dare jeopardise his life for that pathetic animal, right? Right?

Arthur stood up and watched as Alfred gained his speed, the green man at the traffic light flashing, the cat running faster than ever. There were no cars so that's good that's great everything's going to be splendidly fine and-

Arthur saw a truck. A big cement truck. Heading straight in the direction of the two running figures. And the green light turned to red. That's when Arthur dropped the jacket.

 **[20th December 2018, 8:25am]**

He sprinted. The falling snow crunched beneath Arthur's shoes as he ran, the once refreshingly cool wind now biting at his eyes harshly as he struggled to keep them open. His scarf was flapping around in the wind as he dug his feet into the ground and ran harder. The worries he had and the panicked feeling coursing through his body could be all for nothing. He could be simply overreacting. But the alarm bells ringing in his ears and the uneasy gut feeling was overwhelming, and he's not taking any chances.

"Alfred, stop! You're being reckless!" Since when was the traffic light so far? Arthur was not an outdoor person. His legs were burning due to the running and Arthur still kept going. Alfred seemed to hear Arthur because he paused for a moment. And just as Arthur thought that Alfred was going to come back, just as he was about to breath a sigh of relief, Alfred picked up the pace.

Arthur's heart dropped. "Fuck." Arthur whispered. His fists clenched in an effort to run faster, his fingernails nearly piercing pass the skin of his palm. He ran past the gates, almost slipping at one point. The journey felt like hours when it was most likely only less than a minute. Alfred was now right before the traffic light, with the cat at the middle of the road.

"STOP! STOP!" Arthur was now shouting. His throat was parched dry from the lack of water and it hurt to shout at such a loud volume. Arthur outstretched a hand in an attempt to grab Alfred's shirt despite knowing he's too far to do so. Alfred didn't seem to hear him this time. He went onto the road, jogging to the cat and picking her up. "MOVE ALFRED MOVE." Arthur was hysterically shouting at the top of his lungs.

He placed his foot on the road, only for a car to U-turn right in front of him, causing Arthur to wrench back, preventing him to getting to the blue-eyed American. That cement truck didn't halt at all, it was getting closer and closer to Alfred. Alfred looked up and smiled at Arthur. Was he… crying?

Arthur didn't get to find out.

Alfred was still kneeling on the snow-covered road when the vehicle slammed into him. The cat jumped out from Alfred's grasp and escaped, but Alfred flew back from the impact. His blood painted the truck red as his body was rolled over by the wheels. Arthur screamed. The truck didn't stop, carrying on on its merry way. Arthur's legs felt as if they were made of matchsticks, too weak to take a single step. But he somehow managed to get to Alfred, walking jerkingly step by step, moving in a trance. He collapsed in front of Alfred.

 **[20th December 2018, 8:28am]**

His blood was splattered everywhere. The original colour of his shirt could no longer be seen. The scent of iron lingered in the cold brutal air as Arthur slowly placed his hands on Alfred's arms. Reality sunk in. Arthur frantically shook his body. "YOU BLOODY FUCKING IDIOT! WHAT WERE YOU THINKING!" The red snow seeped through his jeans, causing his knees to be numb from the cold but he didn't give a damn.

He wanted Alfred's eyes to open, he wanted Alfred to warmly smile at him and console him, saying he's fine, he wanted Alfred to be rushed to the hospital and to be alive. But, that will never happen. Alfred's dead. Arthur could tell without even checking his pulse. With that much bloodloss, nobody would make it out alive. His youthful face was contorted into a pained expression of agony, and Arthur held him close.

He wanted to convince himself that this wasn't real, that he was delusional, but the warm blood from Alfred's body, the smallest of details such as the pungent scent of tar and blood mixing to the unsteady smoke coming out from Arthur's mouth as he greedily gulped in the frigid air and the harsh bitter wind blowing into Arthur's face and freezing his cheeks, said otherwise. Arthur wanted to cry so badly but his eyes remained dry, even as he closed his eyes in anguish. He didn't manage to save Alfred.

In fairy tales, there were always happy endings. The two got together and were complete, just like how two halves made a whole. Both the main characters are contented, alive and have a great future ahead. And just this once, Arthur desperately wished for their ending to be like that, for a second chance, for Alfred to be alive. That's all he needed to be satisfied.

 **[20th December 2018, 8.28am]**

 **[20th December 2018, 8.15am]**

 **[20th December 2018, 8.02am]**

 **[20th December 2018, 7.49am]**

 **[20th December 2018, 7.36am]**

 **[20th December 2018, 7.23am]**

 **[20th December 2018, 7.10am]**

 **[20th December 2018, 6.57am]**

 **[20th December 2018, 6.44am]**

 **[20th December 2018, 6.31am]**

"Beep beep beep beep! Beep beep beep beep! Beep beep beep beep! Beep beep-"

"Ugh…" Arthur slammed his hand on his nightstand before picking up his phone. He squinted his eyes as he forced himself to see through the harsh brightness to shut off the alarm. He felt like shit and didn't want to go to work today. He was so dizzy, did he get drunk again? He can't recall. Arthur tossed his pillow over his head. Alfred... he's dead and Arthur couldn't stop him. Arthur probably got drunk to wash away the guilt and the pain. Not that it was gone because his heart hurt so badly.

Arthur felt his eyes closing when he jolted wide awake. He immediately switched back on his phone. He stared in disbelief at the screen. It was 20th December.

What the fuck?

 _For now, I will not be continuing the story. Instead, I am currently focusing on writing another story called "Not-so-deadly Love" (PruAus). It will take a long time to get everything done and I do hope that you will understand. Thanks._


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